This is me

  November 29th, 2011 by thelonelystar

I am so lucky. I have everything a 19 year old girl could want. I have opportunity, am working myself towards getting a good college education without any debt. Parents who love me. I have no financial problems. I have had no traumatic experiences in my life. I’m decent looking, not beautiful, but not ugly. I don’t drink alcohol. Never smoked weed, never tried drugs, I drive the speed limit and tip generously. I’m blessed with all these wonderful things, but I’m not given what every person on Earth wants. To be happy.
I sound pretty stupid right now. Being given everything and still not being happy because of it. I sound like a spoiled brat. I’ve learned the value of hard work and money. I grew up placing the happiness of others before myself and being considerate.
To get straight to the point, I hate myself. So much. I could go on, forever listing reasons why I am a worthless sack of filth. Every breath I take, every move I make is done with this deep hatred I have for myself, to the bone. I stand in front of a mirror for hours nit picking at how disgusting I look when other people say I’m fine. I create free time to personally bash myself and my self esteem, but I don’t realize that I’ve done it until I’m wiping the tears from my face. When I get a C on an exam I am the scum of the planet. I am not good enough. I deserve to be miserable for the rest of my life. I deserve to live suffering than be given the pleasure of death. I deserve to eat at myself slowly and be the cause of my death. I feel this way because no one on earth hates me more than I hate myself.
I’m a pre-med student, watching all of my colleagues succeed as I fall behind. I tried everything, but I continue to watch my grades drop. I rip out my hair when I study, then scratch at my scalp until I start bleeding. Then I pick at the dried blood, then I pick at the scabs in this endless cycle. I scream at the walls like bloody murder when my roommate is gone, throw anything that won’t break and pray to God every night that I won’t wake up again in the morning.
I have some issues. I have no reason to, but that doesn’t mean that they are gone. That doesn’t mean that I don’t cry every night at my failures. That doesn’t mean I want this to go on forever and that I haven’t tried to stop this pathetic helplessness.
After 5 years of trying to decipher the meaning of life, my life, I’m still turning up blanks. I’m still the same helpless child that I have been and always will be. Suicide runs through my mind often especially when I feel like I’m trapped by failures, by my oppression against myself. This is me, it’s nice to meet you.

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